


Flashing Lights

by ReachfortheMarquee



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Awkward Harry, Celebrities, Celebrity culture, Drinking, F/M, Flirting, Harry and Draco are rivals, Harry and Hermione are hot period, Harry and Hermione are so hot for each other, Hollywood, Love Triangles, Movie Director Harry, Parties, Rock Star Sirius Black, Screenwriter Remus Lupin, Sexual Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, everyone's hot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-21 11:40:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15556917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReachfortheMarquee/pseuds/ReachfortheMarquee
Summary: When you're a part of the young Hollywood elite, anything can happen.





	Flashing Lights

**Author's Note:**

> I know I have another story people want me to continue, and I've been meaning to but life got a little crazy and when I sat down to work on it (finally!!) this idea wouldn't go away... 
> 
> So here you go, a brand new story full of drama and sexual tension. 
> 
> Enjoy! 
> 
> xoxo

Pt. 1 - Whisky Moments

Ducking into an alcove, Harry sighed with relief as he downed his first drink of the night. _Finally_. He had never liked going to these stupid events, despite being a part of them for his whole life. The schmoozing, the networking - oh god the networking - with Hollywood’s elite. It was a nightmare. He much preferred laying around on the couch dodging calls and eating leftover pizza. Not this; forced pleasantries with the people he hates, shoving too fancy to actually be good appetizers in his mouth to avoid conversation with anyone who tried.

Glancing once more around the party, eyeing the hundreds of perfect well dressed people, Harry wondered if he could escape without anyone noticing. Clocking the exit he decided the risk was worth it. Especially once he noticed a flash of distinctive white blonde hair in the crowd. _Dick._ Keeping an eye on the exit and a white knuckled hand around his drink, he moved with quick strides towards his salvation.

“Harry my boy!” he groaned as he was stopped by the king of networking, and the host of tonights shindig, himself.

“Slughorn. Nice party, as always.” Slughorn swayed slightly on his feet, already too far into the top shelf liquor for a host. But that wasn’t any of Harry’s business.

Slughorn's famous moustache trembled in his glee, “Congratulations on your latest hit my boy! Record breaking box office numbers, glowing reviews, your parents would be so proud!”

Ignoring Harry’s slight flinch at the mention of his parents, the older man continued with his speech slightly slurred, “What are you working on next? I’ve heard the studio is making another in the series, have you been tapped to direct yet? Oh, it’s only a matter of time my boy! They just love you, everything you touch turns into box office gold!”

Harry knew it was true, though he wished it was because of his dedication and the hard work he poured into each film he made not to mention his sheer talent as a filmmaker and not his name that brought about his successes. He supposed he should be more grateful, being one of the top directors in the world despite his young age of 23 was something to be proud of, according to Rita Skeeter's latest article.

But still, if he hadn't of been raised by his rock star ("Rock GOD, Harry!") godfather Sirius and Sirius' best friend Remus (a successful screenwriter, and one of the pioneers of the werewolf genre) after his film star parents died in a tragic car accident, that he somehow survived as an infant named “The Boy Who Lived!” by the press? Well, he certainly wouldn’t be where he was today. Choice director for the superhero film universe Hogwarts, after the unrivalled success of the first in their series; Godric, defender of Gryffindor. He had recently been asked to direct Ravenclaw, the much anticipated Origin story of Helena Ravenclaw, and the first solo female superhero film ever- no pressure Harry. Harry hated the what ifs of it all.

Harry forced a laugh and glanced away, looking for a way out of the conversation as he always did when cornered by Slughorn.

“Oh you know Horace, top secret until the press release is sent out!”

Slughorn’s disappointment was as obvious as Harry knew it would be. Gossip was what kept him rich after all.

“There’s someone I wanted you to meet, she’s just - where did she disappear to? Oh! Sorry for bumping into you- Mr Longbottom! How are you enjoying the party? Tell me, how is dear Hannah? I heard...”

Harry rolled his eyes as Slughorn’s attention span waned, though he sent Neville a sympathetic look over his shoulder as he escaped. Slipping through the crowd with the ease of someone who had been doing it for years, Harry headed towards the bar, knowing that if he couldn’t escape he would need another drink, or five.

Catching the bartender’s slightly starstruck gaze, Harry sighed and handed his glass over, “your best beer, please.”

“I -uh- I don’t know which-“

“That’s alright, love. He’ll take, do you have Ogden’s? Good. That, neat. One for me, as well.” The poor kid’s stammering was interrupted by the most royal sounding British accent he had ever heard. He briefly wondered if Slughorn had somehow gotten the Queen to come; he had been bragging once about knowing a member of the royal family... Harry rolled his eyes at his wandering train of thought before he turned and immediately choked as he laid eyes on the woman it belonged to. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, breathtaking curves draped in red silk leaning against the bar in such effortlessly sexy way that would make any other woman insanely jealous, full lips parting to reveal the a heartstoppingly beautiful smile, she was smiling - at _him_ , her stunning brown eyes, sparkling with amusement. He realized with a wince that he hadn’t been terribly subtle in his perusal of her form.

Awkwardly, he ran his hand through his hair, making it way more messy than it naturally was, and flashed her a grin. Relaxing when he saw the mirth on her face, those large brown eyes he was already half in love with, locked on his. He glanced away only when he felt her push a glass into his hand, his fingers tingling where they touched hers. He raised his eyes to watch her raise her own drink to her lips.

“Whisky? I don’t know if you heard but I ordered beer, miss?”

“Oh I heard, I just know that all the beer Horace has is absolute _shite_. Besides Ogden’s is the best, you simply _must_ try it.” He saw the challenge in her raised eyebrow and the tilt of her lips. He knew she would judge him on the choice he made. If he accepted her challenge or not. He wanted the impression he made to be a good one. So he drank it.

The sensation the drink brought was delicious in its unexpectedness. Fire travelled in the path of each sip and soon warmth was spreading through his body.

The knowing look she gave him set him on fire in a completely different way. And his eyes caught on her lips as she licked them, savouring the flavour of the drink with a soft hum that set his blood on fire.

“It's called firewhisky, do you like it, Mr…?”

“Oh, sorry- Potter, Harry Potter.” He waited for the gasp, the gushing, the worship that always came with his name. The laugh was not what he had been expecting.

He was confused, what did he say that made her- “It’s nice to meet you double-oh-seven. I’m Granger, Hermione Granger.”

He stared at her fact, searching for any hint that she recognized him or his name or anything. But she just stared back with that gentle smile and reached her hand out for his own, did she not know who he was? His heart thumped hard against his chest at the realization and again as she grasped his hand in a firm handshake.

Time seemed to stand still as they stood there smiling gently at each other, neither one breaking eye contact or even seeming to breathe. It felt like his hand caught fire where she touched him, like she was the living embodiment of that Ogden’s whisky. He never wanted to let her go.

He took a step closer to her, lowering his voice and watching the way her chest rose and fell as he drew out the words, "If I'm Bond, does that make you one of my girls, Hermione Granger?"

"I-"

“Potter.”

Her breathy response was cut off suddenly, by the silky voice of the person Harry hated most in the world. The blonde haired devil himself.

"Malfoy."

The magical moment was ruined and Hermione dropped his hand like a child who had been caught taking cookies from the cookie jar. Harry watched her with concern, as she drew a slightly trembling hand up to push a curl behind her ear. He mourned the loss of her touch, as he tore his eyes from hers to land on the face of his smirking rival.

“I see you’ve met my fiancé.”


End file.
